


Own Gladiators Such As These

by OnceRulesofSuperWalkingPotter



Series: 500 Fic Challenge [27]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Anal Sex, Death Threats, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2019-11-07 01:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17951165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceRulesofSuperWalkingPotter/pseuds/OnceRulesofSuperWalkingPotter
Summary: "Now that we understand each other," Caesar kneels down making Agron pause, "fuck me you fucking slave."





	1. Ultimatum

**Author's Note:**

> Man it's been a while. I'm so sorry. My fingers are as tired as the rest of me. Thanks for the support, the comments, kudos, summaries and bunnies. I appreciate them all more than y'all know. I hope you enjoy.

 Agron groans as he was dragged across the ground. His wound, although wasn't really all that deep, hurt like a son of a whore. He was still a little groggy. Knees were continuously battered, and the left side of his face was bruised. Roman bastards trying to interrogate him. Whatever they had planned, it didn't matter. At this point, even if he wanted to tell them where Spartacus was, he couldn't. He has no idea. But he was smarter than that. He was going to let them continue thinking that only he stood between them and the rest of the rebels. The guards dragging him, pulled him at an odd angle, and his hip rolled over a rock. Cursing in his native tongue Agron scowls up at them as best as he could.

"Du verdammte römische Scheiße!" One of them glances back at him before looking at his colleague.

"What did he say?" The other looks down at Agron with a raised eyebrow.

"He said watch where you're going." Agron spits at the ground, a little more aware of his surroundings now that the pain has subsided. It seemed he was being lead off to a tent, separate from the others. Not a good sign. The tent flap signals their entrance, and Agron feels white hot rage explode in his chest when he sees a certain blonde turn and look down at him.

"Ah! Agron! Thank you, you may go." He addresses the guards. The two men glance at each other before hesitantly walking out. Normally, Agron would think that the Roman shit just made a terrible mistake. However, watching Crixus be decapitated while he was bleeding out has put somethings into perspective. For starters, he knows that even as much as he wishes to kill Caesar's traitorous fucking ass, he would have absolute zero chance of survival outside of the tent even if he somehow managed this miraculous feat in his condition. Something his rage and pride says he could.

"Feigheit römische Fotze Hündin." Caesar chuckles darkly pouring himself a cup of wine.

"I have never cared for the East of the Rhine." He squats down in front of the rebel. "Nor it's language." Agron spits some excess blood on the ground looking bored.

"Fick dich." He mutters. The both of them are highly aware that Agron is able to speak common tongue. Caesar drinks deeply from his cup, it registers to Agron that this man reeks of the stuff. As if he's been drinking through out the day.

"But you? I admit to having admired you once or twice." Agron winces when Caesar cups his jaw, squeezing his face. "A fleeting thing, in the past."

"Du bist eine Fotze." Caesar splashes his face with his remaining drink.

"Do not fucking interrupt me." Agron glares at him but stays silent. Caesar grins again. "Good boy. Now, I'm certain you are wondering why I have brought you out here." Agron rolls his eyes when Caesar stands.

"No." He answers. A raised eyebrow. Agron raises one back. Caesar nods slowly.

"There was...an incident....the night prior to your defeat." Agron feels his stomach roll thinking about that day. How was he ever going to look Nasir in the eye? Naevia was she even alive? Fuck how the hell was he going to face Spartacus or worse Gannicus again? The smallest amount of comfort he comes up with, was that he was going to die here and never have to admit that he was unable to save the Gaul. His body might have left that ditch, but both gladiators died that day.

"And that some how concerns me now?" Agron asks since, Caesar remained silent. The blond smiles and Agron suddenly has the sense one gets when happening upon a wolf.

"A bit if sage advice leads me to believe that you can assist me in forgetting the unfortunate event." Agron lowers his chin both eyebrows now raised.

"Meaning you wish me to do what exactly?" The sass was not missed. A slap letting him know it wasn't appreciated either.

"See the thing is, I had this wild idea after sleeping with a few of the whores in followers camp." Agron sighs heavily. If the cunt would just get to the point. He grins knowing this next part wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Let me guess. None of them had a cock big enough to your liking?" Another slap. Worth it.

"Listen carefully." Caesar informs him. No trace of a smile on his face nor any humor in his voice. "This is simply...and experiment." Agron leans back a little. He was starting to really not like where this was going.

"What the fuck do you want with me?" He mumbles more to himself than anything. Caesar purses his lips nodding.

"Let me be clear. If you do not do as instructed," he suddenly grabs Agron by the jaw and pulls his face so close their noses brushed against each other. "I will find that adorable little Syrian boy of yours," Agron's eyes focus directly on him, "I will not kill him. Oh no. I will keep him alive. And every day, hack a piece of flesh from his body until there is nothing left." Agron jerks but Caesar stands up and kicks him in the chest sending him backwards.

"I'll fucking kill you! Don't you dare touch him!" Caesar draws out his sword and touches the tip to Agron's neck, the flat of the blade keeping his chin up. 

"Now that we understand each other," Caesar kneels down an insane glint in his eyes that made Agron pause, "fuck me you fucking slave."

It was like someone shut his brain off. He couldn't think. Couldn't possibly even  _begin_ to process what he was just ordered to do. No. Absolutely not. 

"No." He whispers. Caesar chuckles. 

"Do you wish for your boy to die?" Agron swallows hard. "Then you will."


	2. Drunken Experiments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron has to decide between keeping Nasir safe and actually bedding Caesar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll I am so sorry it has been a while. There's a fic challenge in the works that I've hit a writers block with. I've been forcing myself not to work on anything else until I get one out. So I've decided to procrastinate and add the second chapter to this. Which I dunno why I chose this one but here we are. Anyways, comments, kudos, bunnies and summaries are always appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Agron stares up at Caesar in mild horror as he digests his choices. Does he think that without his sacrifice Nasir would be captured? No of course not. However Saxa used to make the joke that Agron would rather sit on his own weapon than be taken alive. A sentiment all believed to be true, himself included. Yet here he was, bound and beaten at the end of a Roman sword. Agron wishes he knew what to do here. Fighting his way out wasn't happening. Dying here and now wouldn't solve a damned thing. And he would very much like to hope to see Nasir once more before he died. He wonders what Nasir would do if he was in this situation. Hell what would Crixus do if he was still alive? Or Gannicus, Spartacus, fuck he'd take knowing what Laeta would-

"I have a couple of conditions first." Agron states a sudden mask of calm washing over him. Caesar raises an eyebrow as he lowers his sword. 

"Conditions? The choices are simple. Fuck me or I shall use your Syrian as a treat for my dogs." Agron feels his heart squeeze in terror at the thought while Caesar sits there smugly. Yet he refuses to show the ass any more emotion just yet. 

"And does my fucking you assure his safety? Or just a quick death?" Agron retorts shifting around, sitting on his heels as best as the ropes would allow. They weren't tight, but they did hinder. 

"Alright, slave, you have my word. I shall do what I can to keep the boy alive. Should he fall at another's hand however, I shall hold no guilt at being unable to prevent this." Caesar counters setting his sword on the table with a loud clatter. Agron nods. Probably the fairest offer he was going to get from the Roman cunt. 

"Now, the rest of my conditions are simple enough. I want a bath and some real medical attention." Caesar barks out a laugh.

"A bath and medical attention?" He parrots back. "I suppose knowing what Crassus has in store for you, I might as well allow it." Agron clenches his jaw trying to keep his gaze off Caesar's grin. The dimple that deepens with his amusement. More than once in Sinuessa, Agron found his eyes be drawn to that fucking grin. Always next to Nemetes, and always when Agron was mad at Nasir for being near Castus. 

"Not the point. You saw how I treated the Romans in Sinuessa. And I saw how you treated them during your charade. Considering that they were treated better than I have been; I want a bath." Nasir has obviously grown more accustom to the on the run rebel life style rather than the pampered slave one, but any and every chance he could get had his lover scrubbed clean, angrily demanding Agron do the same and now suddenly Agron can't stand being disgusting for long. Caesar shrugs taking a swig out of the jug. 

"Anything else? We haven't exactly have all the time in the world." Agron almost smirked. Almost. 

"Simply  _all_ night." Caesar's face doesn't change expression but there was a noticeable shift with the tension in the air. He hadn't meant for it to be so...flirtatious. Had tried to make it a warning. Although if it were someone inexperienced then perhaps it would sound that way. "I want a meal Caesar. No need for a man to die on an empty stomach." And considering the only slaves Crassus has around were the whores in followers camp that meant the soldiers would have to clean up the dead body. And whatever mess was left behind. Caesar sets down the jug and staggers over, pulling a dagger out as he does. 

"After. We do have all night, slave." He whispers back pupils blown. Agron feels his eye twitch a rage clawing itself up the deepest parts of him, threatening to explode in his chest. A rage he hasn't felt since before he met Nasir.

"One last condition." Caesar chuckles softly squatting down. If he wasn't so furious he might be cautious of the manic gleam in those ever blue eyes. 

"Name your price _slave_." Agron curls his lip,

"Say. My. Name." He snarls. A predatory grin slides across Caesar's face like a snake. Never blinking he reaches behind Agron,

"Earn it slave." Caesar whispers in his ear as he uses the blade to cut Agron's binding. 

With an angry shout, Agron throws his shoulder into Caesar's middle, lifting him off the ground. Caesar curses trying to find something to pull. Anything to knock the giant down. Instead Agron all but throws him onto the table. Caesar grunts when his back connects with the handle of his sword. There was a brief second where Agron stared at the blade, long enough for Caesar to pull and arm back and throw a punch. The two of them start grappling around, falling off the table hitting the ground hard. Caesar lands at an odd angle, the wind getting knocked out of him. Agron seeing his chance maneuvers himself using his size to his advantage to pin the Roman down. Breath regained, Caesar struggles irritated by the fact that it seems claiming Agron to be a tree was misleading, since the bastard weighed as much as a stone wall. He glares up at him, trying to think of a way out of this.

In the same instance the two of them became aware of an insistent prodding against Agron's stomach. 

Agron probably would have found Caesar's face of shock comical, if he wasn't so sure it reflected his own. His cock gives a small twitch of interest that Agron decides to ignore. Instead, he blinks slowly as a blush starts deepening Caesar's cheeks. Nodding, Agron stands pulling Caesar up as he does. Caesar stays silent trying to find a good reason to blame his erection on the wine. And to make it believable. He shouldn't have decided to do this. This whole thing was an idiotic idea concocted from a drunken state. This was all Tiberius' fault. If he hadn't sent the little bastard straight into Spartacus' trap then he would simply not rest until he found a way to kill him. Fucking every whore in followers camp and being unable to finish was one thing. Having to grasp himself in hand to achieve release? Detestable. Picturing Tiberius' hands upon him every time he closes his eyes? A fucking nightmare. 

"Turn around." Agron's voice cuts through his own thoughts. Caesar blinks, realizing his mind was more wine meddled than he had originally thought. 

"What?" Caesar laughs. 

Agron rolls his eyes, deciding enough was enough. If Caesar wished for cock in ass, then he was to have it. Give himself more time to find a way out of this. Or more accurately; a way for Spartacus to come to the rescue. Something Agron was certain was going to happen. So long as the Rebel King learned of his existence. Not waiting for Caesar to continue questioning him, Agron reaches out and rips the front of his tunic all the way down the front revealing hardened cock straining against his loincloth. 

Caesar gasps like a fucking virgin, prompting Agron to step forward, crowding his face and craning his neck down so they were closer to eye level. He could tell by the slight flushing of cheeks, and the glimmer of interest in Caesar's eyes that looking up at a lover wasn't something he has to do before. Agron tries to stop the smirk from slipping onto his lips, but it proved useless. Roughly Agron turns the Roman around, shoving him forward as he pulls the rest of the clothing off the man's back. Caesar curses as he stumbles, his lower belly catching the edge of the table causing his body to bend over without thought. Agron steps behind him running a hand down his spine. 

"I said; turn around you Roman cunt." Agron informs matter-of-factly. Caesar glares over his shoulder, a muscle in his jaw working furiously. 

"Show some respect you slave whore." Caesar snaps back. He barely catches a yelp when Agron smacks one of his ass cheeks. 

"Earn it." Agron parrots back with a shit eating grin. Instead of throwing him off and trying to kill him like Agron expected, Caesar chuckles. 

"Touche'  _slave_." He receives another smack but there was less sting to it this time. Agron shakes his head. Fucking cheeky shit. Whoever Caesar was used to must let the blond be in control. Hell, maybe the man died in battle. Or perhaps it was Marcus Crassus himself. Simply too preoccupied as of late to take care of his lover. Agron remembers there was a brief time where Nasir and he did little but collapse onto some patch of dirt together curled up next to a pile of ashes for warmth. It makes sense to him at least. 

Wasting no more time; Agron slides a finger at the waist ban of the cloth. Running his nail back and forth across Caesar's skin. He hates that he enjoys the pebbling of flesh under his touch. Not at all carefully Agron yanks the remains of Caesar's modesty down past his knees. A soft sound was heard and ignored. He busies himself with positioning Caesar better. Spreading his legs farther apart, bending him lower and straightening out his back. The...well the basics. Agron could feel his previous anger slowly draining from him. Maybe Crassus usually has him ride? If Caesar was usually in charge then that seemed logical. Agron could feel himself start frowning. Mostly due to the fact that Caesar was starting to become...tense. Agron glances up at the back of Caesar's head with a growing sense of foreboding. The man  _did_ say this was an experiment. Clenching his jaw Agron uses both hands to grab a cheek. Rolling and kneading the surprisingly squishy flesh. Spreading, doing what he could to inspect without making it seem like he had any suspicions. For his part, Caesar remained still. Kept silent, too. Even if he thought Agron believed something was up; he didn't let it show. 

Standing up straight, Agron instinctively rubs Caesar's lower back reassuringly. He could see how tightly Caesar was clutching the edge of the table, and it only deepened his frown. Sighing heavily, Agron ignores this and works his middle finger past the tight muscles. His eyes widen recognizing the signs of abuse. The tearing. from experience he feels the healing of a swollen and bruised hole. Heart pounding, Agron adds another digit noticing the twitch from Caesar. He didn't like this idea before. Now he hates it. Hates himself for getting into this situation. Hates Caesar for making this a thing. And especially hates whoever has treated the man like this. Shaking his head Agron busies himself with stretching the blond. 

It took a few moments for Caesar to start relaxing. Realizing he was going to be in for a long night, Agron chews his cheek trying to determine how bad his current wounds were. Maybe if they weren't  _too_ bad. He could actually kill Caesar and make a break for it. Not that he has the first  **clue** on where Spartacus and the others could possibly be. And what if maybe Crassus was simply using Caesar's death to motivate the Roman's and have Agron lead them directly to the rebels? Not acceptable. Agron feels his heart sink as he twists his wrist. There was nothing for it he was just going to have to suffer through this...whatever this was. 

A low moan from Caesar draws Agron from his thoughts, eyes wide. 

Blinking he watches the highly "feared" and renown Julius Caesar start panting, pressing his forehead against the table his hips jerking in time with Agron's hand. To his surprise Agron's cock begins to stir with interest. Angry at himself Agron forces his rage from earlier to at least make attempt of returning. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Agron curls his fingers amazed at the needy whine that spills from Caesar's lips. Cursing under his breath Agron leans down, his body covering Caesar's to whisper in the man's ear. 

"Say. My. Name." Caesar bites his lip as Agron's free hand wraps around his aching cock. 

"Fuck you." He breaths out, legs shaking in effort to stay standing. Agron chuckles, almost threateningly. 

"Perhaps; the reason you are so good at pissing people off," Caesar chokes back a noise that was certain to be embarrassing when Agron removes his digits, "is because you like it rough?" Agron teases, reaching over the blond to dip his hand in a plate of oil that miraculously hasn't been knocked over. 

"Perhaps; the reason you hesitate," Caesar gasps, "and the reason your boy ran to the pirate was because you do not know how to use  _cock_ properly." Agron raises an eyebrow at the snap. Humming in thought, he tugs insistently on Caesar's own cock. "God's fuck!" Caesar yelps 

"Always been a mouthy little shit haven't you?" Agron coos mockingly coating himself, making sure to  line up. He could tell Caesar was eager, mostly by the way the Roman bastard kept pushing backwards. 

Sadly, being eager does not make breaching any smoother.

Agron bites his tongue as he has to ease his way past Caesar's resisting sphincter muscles. Having to pull back and carefully push back in. Further than before. Aggravatingly this goes on about three more times until Agron finds himself fully seated within the Roman. It was easy to tell by the redness in his face and chest, accompanied by the tears in the corner of his eyes that Caesar was  **not** used to someone of Agron's size. As most men, Agron was fairly pleased by his cock's length and girth. Yet, he knows there was nothing "extra" about it. Himself and Nasir having confessed to having lovers with larger. And fuck all he shared the bath's with the Gladiator's a life time ago at Batiatus'. That damned Segovax had put every man on the damned planet to shame. So...was Crassus or whoever the fuck it was that was previously fucking Caesar so small?

"M-move. Damn you." Caesar's voice was barely more than a whisper. That cloud of suspicion was falling over Agron again; but he does as requested. 

 


End file.
